Karaoke Revolution
by tinmiss1939
Summary: (previously Something New) Courfeyrac's birthday, a karaoke machine, Eponine and Enjolras. Of course it goes wrong but what are the odds something goes right? (Fluff!)
1. Chapter 1

From a tumblr headcanon by textsfromumbridge and drinkwithmebarricadeboys. Probably not what either of you intended, but that was where it started.

* * *

Two years ago, Courfeyac's birthday had resulted in Grantaire and Enjolras going to the emergency room.

Last year, Enjolras had missed the party due to being arrested at a protest that morning. Courf didn't hold it against him (much) because Gabriel caught up with the birthday boy and Bahorel when they landed in the jail cell next to his later that night. No candles, but the amused arresting officer gave them donuts and coffee.

Tentatively, Enjolras thought his luck might have broken this year. They had rented the backroom of the Corinthe for a night of drinking and Karaoke. Alain Combeferre had planned it, thinking it might be safer if they all stayed in one place. He had forgotten, however, that there were multiple definitions of 'safe' and none of them ever applied to Gauvain de Courfeyac.

Jumping onto the makeshift stage, Courfeyac's grin was a bit too wide and his birthday hat at too jaunty of an angle to make anyone feel comfortable. "Let's get in one or two more duets before we call it a night." He shook Jehan's fedora menacingly and pulled out two slips of paper.

He barely opened the papers before calling out. "Oh, look. How convenient. Eponine and Enjolras. The only two people who haven't sung!"

On hearing his name, panic flooded and burned his bloodstream. "No, I can't-It's not-" Enjolras stuttered.

"I'll tell you what it is," Courfeyrac beamed, almost leaping off the stage. He threw an arm over each of their shoulders. "It is my birthday. Which you missed last year."

"I didn't miss it at all!" Eponine protested. "Why am I being dragged into this?"

"Eponine, while you are frighteningly good with birthdays," Courf drawled, "You are far less good at securing your agenda." His voiced dropped to a whisper, just for her and Enjolras. "Unless you want everyone to know what you've been doodling in the margins with little hearts around it." Her cheeks pinked. "I thought not." He smirked and his triumph was sweetened by Enjolras's bewildered look. Eponine just did not blush, but even her ears were turning red. The young man's distraction made it easy for Courfeyrac to grab his elbow in a steel grip and manhandle him towards the stage. Eponine trailed after, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. Enjolras frowned. Meekness was not a good look for her and was one he hadn't seen much since high school.

* * *

Eponine herself was trying not to flashback to sophomore year. It was such a childish thing to do, tracing the curves of his name in the margins. She should have known better, but if Courf thought he could blackmail her and get away with it he had another thing coming. Something involving superglue or Sriracha or pink hair dye. The idiot birthday boy nodded at Grantaire in the makeshift sound booth and the Karaoke machine pulled up a song. Eponine rolled her eyes at the selection, grabbing a microphone. Apparently Courf had been rifling through her iPod as well as her agenda. Enjolras, however, just stared at the screen for a moment. "This is from-"

"Yes, one of your favorites, I believe?"

"The sociologic and political themes are timeless," he shot back at Courf, blinking under the stage lights. Snickers broke out across the room. Enjolras ignored the peanut gallery, still focused on the computer screen. "But this song is from a father to a daughter."

Grantaire stepped out of the little sound booth and made his way back to the table. "What's the matter? Can't see yourself in a familial relationship with-" Courf punched Grantaire in the shoulder as he passed and talked over Grantaire's yelp. "The lyrics are fairly generic and its my birthday."

"But the authorial intent is clearly-"

Grantaire shouted, "The Author is Dead!" as he collapsed into his chair. He was immediately pelted by napkins and boos from Jehan and Prouvaire.

"Enjolras has a point," Eponine said, raising her voice over the hissing writers. "He could argue that the rest of the musical is internal evidence rather than context, in which case it isn't a question of authorial intent at all, whatever we think about New Criticism."

Enjolras looked at her with gratitude before turning back to their audience. "Yes. That. Internal evidence." Eponine smirked at him, graciously tipping her head in acknowledgement. The stage lights were ridiculously hot for a makeshift stage in a dive bar. She watched Enjolras rolling up his shirt sleeves, snapping the cuffs back with irritation. She understood. The whole situation had started off ridiculous and showed no signs of recovery. Jehan and Prouvaire had already started shouting at Grantaire, Courfeyrac, and even each other. Eponine leaned over and whispered, "You've never set foot in a literary theory class."

"But you have," he whispered back. "I know you think that 'Author is dead' stuff is crap."

"It's not crap, but it does strip the artist of meaning and agency. It can be a useful exercise but at the end of the day," she trailed off into a shrug. "I don't like the extreme version of it. No one likes being disenfranchised."

"Disenfranchised." Enjolras cocked his head to the side and smiled a little. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"You hadn't thought about it at all," she volleyed back, but it was softened with a smile. The light banter was easy with Enjolras. It was so easy that the next thought tumbled out before she could catch it. "You know, Courfeyrac has a point, too. The words work for many kinds of love, and I always thought this song could make a nice duet." Enjolras made her too honest.

"Really?" The blond perused the lyrics again, curls falling around his face as artfully as ever. "Maybe." He glanced back at her with undisguised curiosity. It had been a while since they'd just talked. "I didn't know you were familiar with it."

Familiar? It was a regular on her shower rotation but that was the last thing she wanted him to know. Deflect, she thought. Turn it around and make him talk about himself for a change. "I should have guessed you would like this show. It's about as political as musicals get."

He sighed. "It isn't just the politics-" He stopped as a bread roll sailed through the air between them.

Feuilly had joined the debate with Jehan and Prouvaire, which had devolved into throwing balled-up napkins, bread rolls, and the occasional ice cube. Courfeyrac looked ready to throw a tantrum. "It's still my birthday and I want to hear them sing!" For his contribution, he got hit in the forehead by a bottle cap. Eponine didn't even bother to whisper anymore when she said, "I think he's up to something."

"Especially since your name wasn't even in the damn hat." Enjolras was fiddling with the screen, trying to find a way to change the song. Eponine swore under her breath, and was unable to compose her face before he gave up on the machine. Off her look, he added, "I saw you palm your own paper and stick in your shoe. It's easier to see when you've had a few drinks."

Gabriel's eyes were bright and teasing as he met her gaze, just like they had been so long ago, and he was much too close. With a huff, Eponine sharply turned back to the chaos in front of them. She really didn't want to do this-not with this song and certainly not with Enjolras. Courfeyrac was rolling his eyes and appeared ready to give up when Grantaire opened his mouth one more time.

"Sing the damn song and I'll stop drinking at meetings for a month."

Silence fell. Napkins and bread rolls dropped onto the table. Eponine's heart plunged in her chest because there was no getting out of this now.

Surely enough, Enjolras picked up the microphone with his eyes locked on Grantaire, who nodded once in a silent promise for reasons of his own. To Eponine, Enjolras asked, "Alternate the verses?"

"Yes, but follow my lead at the bridge."

* * *

Some joker - probably Grantaire - turned down the lights in the rest of the room, and Enjolras could barely see their friends for the glare. That made the situation feel oddly familiar-stage, lights, microphone, words. Different delivery, but honestly not that terrifying. He had done his turns in church choir before he had split permanently from both his parents and organized religion. He flicked the switch on the mic, took a deep breath, then froze. One new factor he hadn't counted on. One question left as the languid violin introduction began. There was no time for discussion so he went with his gut.

"I'll start-"

"You start-"

They spoke simultaneously. Startled, he looked her way and saw the same surprise mirrored back at him. Gabriel knew instinctively that the first verse was his and the words of the second verse could only be for Eponine. It felt like he'd always known, but how had she?

Then he had to sing.

"Suddenly I see  
Suddenly it starts  
Can two anxious hearts beat as one?  
Yesterday I was alone  
Today you walk beside me.  
Something still unclear,  
Something not yet here has begun."

Lights and microphones and finding truth in words, even if they weren't his own. He stepped to the side, letting Eponine take over. She was looking at him sideways with drawn eyebrows and crossed arms, however, and almost missed her cue.

"Suddenly the world  
Seems a different place  
Somehow full of grace, full of light."

Eponine's voice had a sweetness he hadn't expected, made more poignant by her closed posture. As she sang more, she stood a little straighter and her voice warmed.

"How was I to know that so much hope was held inside me?  
What has passed is gone  
Now we journey on through the night."

It was lovely, the way she opened up. He found it easier to hear facets of Eponine in the words, even facets of himself.

"How was I to know at last that happiness can come so fast?  
Trusting me the way you do  
I'm so afraid of failing you."

A soft touch on his wrist told him to pause. He hardly heard her voice over the sensation of her fingers brushing his pulse point.

"Just a child who cannot know that danger follows where I go  
There are shadows everywhere  
And memories I cannot share."

Something in those words must have made her feel vulnerable, for her hand started to slip away. Enjolras grabbed it like a lifeline. She always slipped away when she felt vulnerable and he'd had enough of that for a lifetime. Startled, she looked at him and Enjolras didn't look away.

"Nevermore alone,  
Nevermore apart."

He pulled her hand to his chest. She pressed her palm to his pounding heart as he continued.

"You have warmed my heart like the sun."

Their fingers twined together, still resting against his heart. Though he felt he could sing any of the words, a quick nod passed the song back to Eponine.

"You have brought the gift of life  
And love so long denied me."

He squeezed her hand and she nodded. They sang the last lines together.

"Suddenly I see  
What I could not see;  
Something suddenly  
Has begun."

The cheers and cat calls of their friends were distant compared to the warmth of her hand. Enjolras clicked off the mic and let it drop to his side, hardly daring to breath even if it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the the room. Eponine stepped back with a frown and he released her hand, still dazed. She turned to go, but stopped when feedback screeched through the speakers. With the spell shattered, he lunged for the microphone she was desperately trying to turn off.

"No, it's on the bottom, not the side-"

"Yes! I can see that!"

They struggled for a minute, the speakers wailing the entire time.

"The switch is stuck. What happened?"

"I don't need your help! Let go!"

And wasn't that Eponine all over? He grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back behind the mic line to stop the noise. "Stop being so stubborn!" They collided with a mic stand and almost went over. She ripped the batteries out and threw them at his chest.

"Stop being such an oblivious, high-handed asshole!"

"That doesn't even make sense!" He shouted back before he noticed the tears in her eyes. "Eponine?"

Her sniffling and hiccups were the only sound in the room. He took a slow step towards her. "Eponine? What's wrong?"

She squared her shoulders like she was facing a firing squad. "Can we talk?"

* * *

AN: Part 2 not written but coming soon. Probably. o_O


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't need your help! Let go!"

And wasn't that Eponine all over? He grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back behind the mic line to stop the noise. "Stop being so stubborn!" They collided with a mic stand and almost went over. She ripped the batteries out and threw them at his chest.

"Stop being such an oblivious, high-handed asshole!"

"That doesn't even make sense!" He shouted back before he noticed the tears in her eyes. "Eponine?"

Her sniffling and hiccups were the only sound in the room. He took a slow step towards her. "Eponine? What's wrong?"

She squared her shoulders like she was facing a firing squad. "Can we talk?"

* * *

"Oh, I love it when a plan comes together!" Courfeyrac gleefully pounded on Combeferre's shoulders as the distraught pair left for the patio. It was better than he'd dreamed. Enjolras even tried to take Eponine's elbow, which was a clear win for Team Eponine. Her shaking him off was irrelevant; she'd confess, he'd confess, and he'd be planning a bachelor party by Christmas. It took Combeferre slapping the back of his head to break through his internal screaming.

"'You love it when a plan comes together.' You're quoting the A-Team?" Combeferre smacked him again.

"Ow! What the hell? That worked perfectly," Courf whined, rubbing the back of his head. "Okay, yeah, I'm more Face than Hannibal. You can be Hannibal, if you want." He dodged Combeferre's hand again.

"You moron," Alain said. "We're going to be scraping Enjolras off the _sidewalk_."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No! They'll be fine. This will work. This will totally work."

Grantaire slammed his bottle down on the table. "You're both right," he said. "It'll be ugly, but it will be over." Across from them, he flipped out his mobile phone and started typing furiously. Courf leaned over to see, only to be pushed back by Grantaire's index finger on his forehead. "No. Boundaries. We've talked about this."

Grumpy, Courf sat back with folded arms. "You weren't talking about boundaries when you helped me with Captain Apollo and Xena."

"Boundaries with me," he said. "That was for the public good."

"That's very civic-minded of you." Combeferre mused.

"Alright, it was for my good, too. If Daphne will allow herself to be caught, then let Apollo have her and the rest of us can take our laurels." Grantaire hit the send button with a decisive finality.

Courf bounced in his chair. "Are you texting that hot mail room clerk? He likes the theater and Vietnamese food. He will definitely say yes."

* * *

Soft breezes. Fairy lights. Faint jazz from the main room. The patio behind the Corinthe was charming, romantic, and very, very occupied. A pair of teenagers were making out against the brick wall, oblivious to the Enjolras and Eponine's entrance. Eponine turned to leave, planning a quiet retreat to the back hallway. Enjolras, however, must have reached some sort of internal limit on his patience. He shouted at the boys to get their attention and scowled fiercely when they jumped apart. Eponine stared as he ordered them out, snarling about breaking curfew and local drinking ordinances.

The two boys ran back inside. After a few beers, they told their friends about the lunatic who chased them off the patio. They spent 20 minutes debating whether he was an off-duty cop or an avenging angel but they both agreed he was gorgeous.

Outside, Enjolras slammed the door behind them, flipped the 'Private Party' sign on the door, and shoved a chair against it for good measure. He huffed and crossed his arms. Eponine doubled over laughing. She could suddenly see the absurdity of the situation - Enjolras cock-blocking teenagers so she could ruin their friendship in private. He was looking concerned at her hysterics, so she tried to calm down a little. "Their faces," she wheezed in explanation. "They were so terrified. You could have just asked." She stood up, wiping her eyes.

"Maybe it was overkill." He scratched the back of his neck then sighed deeply. "What's going on, Epona? And not just tonight - I haven't seen you in days and we've barely exchanged more than 3 words in the past two weeks." Eponine winced as he continued. "Then we sing that stupid song and it felt - it felt almost normal. It felt-" He trailed off, unable to find the right word. It felt _right_, she wanted to scream. It felt like home. Sweet, perfect Enjolras wasn't psychic, however, so he still looked confused as he gave up and continued. "Then you're pulling away and crying. I don't understand any of it." He took a step towards her and reached for her hand. She flinched back, because if he touched her she knew she would fall apart. Gabriel's face fell at the movement. "That. That right there."

The pain on his face confirmed her worst fears. Her pathetic attempt at self-preservation hadn't gone unnoticed or unfelt. If there was one thing in the world Gabriel needed, it was his friends. That support was essential to all his causes, his dreams, and maybe his soul. Even small rejections like these could hurt him. What he didn't understand was that it hurt her, too, so she had to suck it up and explain.

Her chest ached and her blood felt like acid, but she could do this. It would be better this way. If she could just get the words out maybe they would stop choking her and she could just _move on_. Move on better than with Marius and Montparnasse. It would be horrible and awkward for a while, but she certainly wasn't the first idiot to fall for untouchable Gabriel Enjolras. She could do this. "I'm sorry, Enjolras," she began. "I'm so sorry for how I've been-"

He cut her off by lunging forward and grabbing her shoulders. "Don't apologize, just tell me. Please, please tell me." Desperation cracked his voice and her planned speech flew out of her head. He raised a hand and wiped the tear stains on her face. She sucked in a trembling breath at his finger tips gliding over her cheeks and into her hair. His voice was almost gone as he whispered, "You're my best friend and I think I'm losing you."

Enjolras was so close that they were breathing the same air and Eponine imagined she could taste the soft sigh that left his mouth. But it was her imagination, wasn't it? Her imagination was running away with her all over again. "You're not losing me," she said softly. She gently pulled his hand from her hair. "You're not, but I don't think we want the same things."

* * *

Gabriel felt the floor drop three inches as Eponine said those words and placed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. _I don't think we want the same things._ What could be so different between them? All he wanted was her - her laughter and her incessant teasing. The hugs she gave him for no reason and the sharp punches to his shoulder that were usually for a very good reason, though there had been a few he hadn't deserved. _We don't want the same things._ He wanted her impatience and her hard-won confidence. He wanted her conversation; she could talk for ages and he would listen, fascinated, until she suddenly turned and asked his opinion on something else entirely.

Eponine dropped his hands and stepped back, leaving him holding empty air. The loss startled him and he realized that he wanted, he needed her hands in his. He needed to touch her hair and feel her fingers thread through his own. He needed the warmth of her breath against his face, her lips against his cheek. He needed to know the taste of her mouth, at least once before he died.

A flash of heat lit up his chest and belly. He was stunned by the thought of kissing her. Before he could fully process that feeling, she turned away. The tension between them spiked as she took some steadying breaths and folded her hand in front of her. He had the sudden premonition her next words would change everything.

"Eponine, please," he said. His throat felt tight. He couldn't breath. "Please, wait."

"I care about you, Gabriel." She smiled even as her eyes teared. "I care about you a lot more than I'm supposed to and it needs to stop."

"What?" Panic must have been making him stupid, because they were speaking the same language and he didn't understand her words at all. It sounded like she was a million miles away and underwater on a horrible cell phone connection. Even through his current tunnel vision he could tell she was crying and smiling at the same time. She had never looked more beautiful. Why he hadn't seen how beautiful and perfect she was until this moment? He had never felt like more of an idiotic child.

"It's been weeks now, since that party at Marius and Cosette's apartment. I've been trying to ignore it but I can't take it anymore." Abruptly, she paused and tilted her head to the side. "Are you feeling okay? You look pale." She placed a hand on his wrist and felt his pulse. "Shit, you're tachycardic and I think you're hyperventilating." She bit her lip and her eyebrows drew together in dismay. "I didn't think it would upset you that much."

She didn't think it would upset him? She was - well, he still didn't understand what exactly she was trying to do but it definitely was bad based on her face and tone. Yes, it was upsetting him a lot, especially with how she was chewing on her bottom lip right now. Eponine wrapped an arm around his waist - he thought he might pass out at that moment - and pulled him to sit next to her on a bench.

"Put your head between your knees," she ordered, pushing him down. "This doesn't have to be weird. I'll be over it soon. I just need some perspective. Some distance." He tried to sit up and explain he might die without her, but she shoved his head down ruthlessly before he could get a word out. "I know this isn't the first time this has happened to you and I doubt it will be the last. We can be adults."

Enjolras moaned. "You don't understand." There was a desperate, clawing tightness in his chest and the words she was saying didn't help at all. The friendship, affection, and longing were overwhelming. Eponine, however, was maddeningly calm in the face of his panic, so he gave up. He gave up entirely and let her rub his back and murmur sweet-sounding platitudes that were complete nonsense. Without her, nothing would ever 'okay' again. Enjolras closed his eyes and lines of Jehan's poetry drifted through his mind. Sly smiles between Musichetta, Joly, and Bossuet. Pontmercy's eyes lighting up as he talked about Cosette. 'What was right seemed wrong, and what was wrong seemed right.'

Eponine's fingers trailed up the nape of his neck and into his hair. He shivered at the sensation. "We'll still be friends," she said. "I will always be there for you. Marius and I are perfectly fine now."

"Oh, God," he whispered. "Eponine." He was in love. He was in love and he was having a heart attack and, by the way, she still wasn't making sense. _I care about you a lot more than I'm supposed to._

She helped him sit up, checking his forehead for a temperature. "Don't make me get Joly," she said with a sad little smile. "He'll want to get you an x-ray or something." She tenderly brushed a few of his curls back and then settled her palm along his jaw.

Her hand felt cool and she was so close against his side. Being in her arms felt like home. He reached up to her hand and pressed kiss to the palm. She blinked a few times, confused, but she didn't pull away this time. Enjolras gave into temptation utterly, running a thumb along her lips. They were soft as silk and he felt her shiver in response.

She leaned into his touch. Everything clicked into place. It was ridiculous.

"Eponine, I think we're talking at cross purposes here." His fingers traced up to tangle in her hair and Eponine's eyes fluttered shut. He whispered against her lips, "I'm falling in love with you." He kissed her.

* * *

For Eponine, the heat and tension had been building exponentially since he traced her mouth with his finger tips. She was drunk, intoxicated off the potential energy between them. When Gabriel finally pressed his mouth over hers she fell into the kiss without fully realizing it. It was an easy slide over the edge of a waterfall. Eponine fisted her hands into his shirt and pulled him closer. One sweet, gentle kiss blended into another, and another. He opened his mouth to gasp for air with his forehead pressed against hers.

"I didn't know," he whispered. "I had no idea. I didn't know I could feel this." His words tickled her skin, making her smile. What a pair of fools they were. No wonder Courfeyrac had resorted to such ridiculous measures. Enjolras played with her hair while they leaned against each other. He tugged a lock of hair to get her attention. "And you? You feel the same, right?"

The touch of uncertainty in his voice pulled her heart to her throat. She leaned back but his eyes were downcast. "Yes." She lifted his chin so he would met her gaze. "Yes. I do." His grin was blinding. With a laugh, he hauled her into his lap sideways. Her hands were pressed to his chest, feeling his pounding heart. Into her hair he mumbled, "Thank God," over and over.

She inhaled the scent of his skin and kissed his high cheekbones, his jawline. His sigh turned into a whimper when she kissed the angle of his jaw and breathed across his ear. Spurred by his reaction and deeply curious, she ghosted her lips over the curve of his ear to draw out another gasp. His hands spasmed on her waist, pressing her closer. Enjolras was trembling beneath her and it was delicious. Eponine dug her fingernails into his shoulders through the thin, crisp cotton of his dress shirt. She bit his ear lobe lightly. Completely drugged by the soft moan of this bright, beautiful boy, she finally let go and whispered, "I love you."

Maybe that was a step too far, because Gabriel's hands flew into her hair and he tugged back down into a bruising kiss. She opened her mouth and let him steal her breath. There was no finesse, but passion and instinct were enough as his tongue slipped past her lips. He explored her eagerly. Enjolras licked across her teeth, the roof of her mouth. Their tongues met, bringing a fresh wave of desire. She threaded her fingers through his hair - no one had the right to hair that soft and thick. Her nails scratched his scalp as she tugged a fistful of the curls and his answering groan satisfied something primal. She wanted to straddle his lap and press him backwards on the bench. Maybe she could drag him up to the table and pull him on top of her to feel his warm weight.

As enticing as those images were, it was too fast for the both of them. She gently pressed her palm to his chest to get a little distance, and he responded immediately. She was touched by how quickly his grip loosened and his kisses slowed. She suddenly knew she'd never have a lover as sensitive and in tune with her own desires. He pulled back into one last kiss, soft and chaste, before looking up at her with dazed, dilated eyes.

Watching him come down from that high was its own kind of joy. He was clearly in awe, but didn't become shy, like she expected, or smug, like she feared. Instead, the same quiet joy lit his eyes. He kissed her nose.

Eponine slid off his lap. She folded their hand together and pull him up to his feet. "Maybe we should get out of here? Get some coffee and talk?"

He smiled, tugging her towards the door. "I'd like that."

* * *

AN: The end! That's all I've got. Thanks for reading this exercise in pure, unadulterated fluff. Concrit is very, very welcome. Cheers!


End file.
